


But Satisfaction Brought it Back

by androgenius



Category: Glee
Genre: Amish, Amish AU, Exhibitionism, F/M, Incest, Masturbation, Sibling Incest, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-07
Updated: 2012-11-07
Packaged: 2017-11-18 03:42:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/556517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/androgenius/pseuds/androgenius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amish!St. Berricest AU; Rachel and Jesse are siblings. Living together in such close quarters, it's inevitable that she'd catch him eventually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But Satisfaction Brought it Back

The first time it happens, Rachel doesn't realize it until twenty minutes after their conversation.

Jesse is panting, bent over his bible study on his desk, his hand moving frantically as the other tangles in his hair. For a moment as she's walking by his room, she just assumes he's in pain, opening the door out of concern for the welfare of her brother.

"O-oh-- oh g-god-- ah-- a-ah--"

"... Jesse?"

Silence.

Everything stops, Jesse straightening in his seat a bit as he swallows hard, clearing his throat.

"Are you okay?"

"I-- I got my-- I slammed m-my finger shut in-- in the drawer."

He's still not looking at her, still staring out the window with his back to her as Rachel takes a slow step into the room.

" _Don't_! -- I-- I mean. I'm fine."

"Can I see? Maybe mama ought to--"

"I'm fine!" He takes a deep, labored breath before finally turning his head to look at her over his shoulder. "Rachel. Please leave the room."

She doesn't ask another question after that, just closing the door and heading downstairs, still replaying their conversation in her head, over and over.

His hand.

The frantic movements.

The moaning.

She's seen it on animals, of course, but she only saw a boy with his pants down once, having watched them being tugged down by another in the hope of laughter by effect of embarrassment.

So she knows there's something _there_ , something she's always been curious about and wanted to ask about, but hadn't because curiosity was generally advised against, and she preferred to be praised for how good she was instead of the opposite. She's always been a good girl.

But she can't help starting to wonder if it feels _good_ to touch it, replaying the scene of her brother with his hand frantically moving in his lap over and over when she lies in bed at night. It makes her feel funny to think about, makes her press her thighs together until little bursts of pleasure seem to flow through her from between her legs, guilt keeping her hands where they're supposed to even as her face gets flushed and warm at the thought.

The second time it happens, she watches for a few minutes without saying anything, the back of her neck warm and the space between her legs begging for attention before she turns back, quietly closing the door and trying not to think about it, unable to do anything but.

The third time finds her quietly slipping inside and praying the door doesn't creak as she leans it closed.

It doesn't, and she feels herself grow just as warm as she does at night under her covers-- warmer, even-- just watching him as she bites her lip and presses her thighs together.

He seems so... entranced, so focused, his hand moving frantically for a few seconds only to slow down, as if he's willing himself to draw this out, intent on teasing himself as her own breath starts coming out shorter, faster, shallower.

The hand in his hair clenches and unclenches, tightening off and on as every lewd sound seems to leave his throat all at once, synchronized together to sound like a song.

Most of his words aren't _bad_. He doesn't swear-- save for the occasional use of the lord's name, and yet, somehow, his gasps and moans and grunts sound more inappropriate to her than anything someone would normally get spanked for saying.

She wants to understand, wants to know what could possibly have him so focused and so entranced, and its curiosity that slowly drives her to take a slow, questing step forward.

Another.

Another.

She's about to take a peek, leaning in in the hopes of _seeing_ what he's doing in his lap, when one of the floorboards creaks, her eyes flying open as Jesse tenses and stops, his eyes wide as he looks to the noise only to see her.

" _Sh_ \-- Rachel."

"I--"

"You should go."

"You didn't hurt yourself, you're--"

"Rachel!"

That stops her, startled, and she draws back, bowing her head as she wraps her arms around herself.

"I-I just don't understand--"

"And it'll stay that way!"

He's still panting as he squeezes his eyes shut. She's not close enough to look, but he seems as though he's covering himself up, taking all his possible restraint to hold back from... something, she's not sure.

"Why do you touch yourself, Jesse?"

"That's-- that's none of your business."

"Does it feel good?"

"S-stop."

"Is it because it feels good?"

"I said, _stop_!"

"It is, isn't it!"

"Rachel!"

They're both still breathing hard, Rachel unmoving from her spot as she stares out the window, the sparrow in the branches of the tree in front of their house, Ezekiel preparing a buggy out front, neither of them saying anything.

"It... it makes me feel funny," she whispers quietly, shock seeming to pass over his features at her words. "Watching you. I-I think about it at night... it makes me feel all warm."

Silence. Rachel holds her breath, just watching his face, the change in his expression as doubt flitters across it and he bites his lip.

Finally--

"D-do--" He closes his eyes, taking a long moment to exhale. "Do you want to see?"

A part of her can't believe he's asking, offering.

Another part needs it more than she can say, and she barely hesitates before nodding desperately.

"Sit," he whispers softly, barely able to believe his own words and she moves to kneel beside his chair, Jesse slowly shifting it to face her as he glances to the door a bit uncertainly.

"The door-- you're sure it's closed--"

Rachel just nods, her gaze fixated on his hands still covering his cock.

It happens so slowly that Rachel wonders if time has slowed, her breath held in anticipation as Jesse lets his cock come free.

She can't stop staring, her lips parting in awe as she watches him wrap his hand around himself to slowly start stroking.

When he closes his eyes, Rachel feels like she's watching something unmistakably private, like she's being let on a secret that feels impossibly good, the look on his face only further coloring her awe as she stares.

Slowly his hand speeds up as his head falls back, a soft moan leaving his mouth, teeth catching his bottom lip.

"Ah--"

It's getting bigger (again? she wonders), and she stares, suddenly unable to decide between watching his hands, his swollen cock, the look on his face, his slightly parted lips, the way his body arches as though giving himself fully to every last sensation shuddering through him.

His breath escapes him in pants and grunts, faster, faster, working himself to a frenzy as Rachel swallows hard, squeezing her thighs together as tightly as she can manage. She's waiting for something, not sure what, desperate for something to happen.

Her own body feels like it might explode if it doesn't, and she watches the shallow, quick rise and fall of his chest in fascination.

"O-oh-- _ahh_ \--"

She gasps.

For a moment, everything stops, his body arching up, eyes squeezing shut, hips bucking forward as a milky white substance comes out of his cock, spurting a bit onto his thighs here and there before the rest of it runs down the sides, onto his hands.

His hips are still thrusting into his hand for a long, suspended silence, slower, slower, and as Jesse finally relaxes in his seat once more, still out of breath and panting, Rachel feels herself do the same.

She's aching between her legs, but she wouldn't know what to do about that as much as she didn't know what to expect from this, Jesse clearing his throat as he reaches for his bed sheet to wipe himself off, not quite meeting her eyes yet.

It becomes a ritual.

They don't talk about it, don't have to, but every day after lunch has her back in his room, Jesse hastily tugging his pants down to start as she watches.

The day he first moans her name, she can't get the sound out of her head.

 _Rachel_...

 _Rachel_ \--

 _Rachel_ \--!

Like a prayer on his lips, begging her to understand.

It's the only word he's spoken while she's in his room, her thoughts alight that night in bed as she presses her thighs together to the memory of it.

 _Rachel_...

Very slowly, her hands gather up her dress.

She doesn't have to do this. She can stop anytime and not sin, let the curiosity lie dormant, where it belongs. She doesn't have to find... pleasure to feel like Jesse does.

But she wants to.

Her legs shift nervously under the covers as though anticipating her undoing, her thighs pressing together as she bites her lip, pulling the fabric of her gown over her hips.

For a moment, she doesn't move, just laying her palms flat on the mattress. She can stop now, leave it at that, content to know that testing herself has proven fruitless, that she's pure and chaste and won't succumb to sin.

How pure is it to watch her brother, to press her thighs together at the thought of him? To savor those little bursts of pleasure inside of her between her legs as she stares on his sin?

Squeezing her eyes shut, she gently, dangerously slowly, tugs free the small drawstring from her underwear, her breath held as she waits for God to smite her.

But it doesn't happen, and she waits another minute before carefully easing down her underwear just far enough to part them slightly, barely above her knees.

Swallowing hard.

Going to the bathroom every morning upon waking has more than proven to her that just ignoring this is useless, that the proof will come to her either way. She always wakes with her underwear damp; _wet_ , almost, forcing her to quickly shove them under the sink to clean before giving them to her mother to wash.

She doesn't know where all that moisture comes from, wonders if it's somehow related to the milky white liquid that leaves Jesse with every pleasured gasp from him to signal the end of their daily sessions.

Curiosity feels as though it's strangling her with the potential of all the things undone, and her legs' shimmy forces her underwear down a bit further as she finally parts her legs.

Nothing has to happen.

She wonders what Jesse would think if he saw her like this, now. Would he shame her, call her out on her lewd act of self-pleasure? Would he refuse to look on her?

Would he want to see more?

Beg her to part her legs a bit wider, to discard her underwear entirely, spread herself open to him fully for him to see everything.

To draw her gown up higher so he might see her breast while she explored herself.

Would he want to _touch_?

Clamping down on her bottom lip, Rachel finally lifts her hand, carefully drawing it in to between her legs.

 _Wet_ , slippery as she lets her fore and middle fingers draw over and around her folds, up and down.

There's a hole there, and Rachel squeezes her eyes shut more tightly as she presses a finger inside of herself, questing experimentally. It's impossibly tight, warm-- and it feels good, making her whimper as softly as she can stand it.

She almost misses the small nub as she draws her hand out and up-- one moment, everything seems predictable, normal--

But the next she's gasping, her eyes flying open at the feeling as she brings her finger back to where the feeling started.

 _Oh_.

_Yes._

The thought of Jesse with his hand around his cock, stroking frantically with his head thrown back.

The way he grips his hair, the arm of the seat, his fist clenching and unclenching.

Harder, faster, every moan and groan and grunt better than the next.

_Rachel--_

She parts her folds as her fingers speed up on her clit, inwardly cursing the way she's trapped her ankles with her underwear, her legs moving frantically under the covers as she moans softly at the feeling.

Would he watch her?

Would he touch her, if he could?

"Ah--"

It feels _so good_ that she can't help but wonder what it would feel like if it were Jesse's fingers playing with her, moving inside of her. But not just his fingers, if he put his--

"O-oh g-gosh--"

She slows her fingers down just to see what it feels like to tease herself like Jesse does before promptly speeding up again. Patience is a virtue, but she's already sinning tonight.

Drawing her hand up to her breast under her gown, she touches and pinches her nipple, biting her lip as she closes her eyes, taking a moment to imagine it being Jesse's hands touching her.

Jesse's eyes raking over her body, greedy, demanding, possessive.

Jesse's hand gently grasping at her breast, experimentally taking her nipple to just barely squeeze the tip of it.

Jesse's fingers moving frantically over her clit, slowing occasionally just to make her whimper in complaint, a reminder that she's completely at his will and mercy.

Jesse's fingers pressing inside of her sex.

Her fingers quest down to press one, then two inside of her, shallow thrusts leaving her bucking helplessly up against her hand.

Faster, _faster_ , needing him, wanting him--

 _Rachel--_!

She comes before she can stop it, her head pressed back into the pillow behind her as she gasps, arching up beautifully, barely fighting to keep the noise down as she cries out.

Her fingers aren't enough, beg to clench around something bigger-- around Jesse's fingers, Jesse's cock.

But when she opens her eyes, he's not there, just a pretense carefully crafted by her imagination.

After that day, Rachel begs Jesse for them to move their meetings to after dinner, and he doesn't ask questions, just agrees, leaving Rachel to follow every evening of watching Jesse by letting her fingers play over her clit in her room, the sight of his cock in his hand only fueling her imagination.

She wonders what it would be like to touch, to hold, to... stroke, as he does.

It's a chilly day in late February when Rachel steps into the barn to see one of their dogs mounting a smaller bitch to couple with her, her eyes transfixed as he thrusts, forcing her to stay still. Her father commented just the other week that the animals were starting to court each other, attempting to find a suitable breeding partner, but seeing him actually mount her--

She's seen it before, of course. But in a lot of ways, even four months ago feels like an eternity away, as though she went to sleep a child one day only to wake up fully grown the next.

"Rachel."

Jesse's voice makes her jump, a shiver running down her spine not entirely precipitated by the cold. But-- she is cold, the chill filtering into the barn from the crack in the door making her shudder under her dress.

"... oh."

He catches sight of the act she's audience to a moment later, clearing his throat as he fixes his stare on the act, refusing to look on her.

He never looks at her, not when he touches himself.

"I suppose father might say it's about time that he took what he wanted."

It's strange, hearing Jesse talk in riddles, and she looks away for a moment as the larger dog seems to come, burying his knot deeply inside the female.

"What might you say?"

"I'd agree, of course." He lets out a slow breath. "That's the role of man, to take what's rightfully his."

"Like a girl?"

Her voice is quiet, and she swallows hard as she finally glances up at her brother with some uncertainty.

But he returns her stare, slowly nodding.

"Yes."

Her hands are clasped in front of her, her long sleeves and pantyhose and stockings keeping everything well-covered, her dress falling below her knees.

And yet, when he looks on her, she can't help but feel as though she isn't wearing a single scrap of clothing, naked before him.

"I'll be seeing you at supper," he says softly, Rachel just nodding as she holds his stare, finally bowing her head as he departs.

The rain that sets in just as Rachel rushes back into the house to straighten up for dinner would seem to wash the world away in an attempt to clean it of the past year as spring prepares for its entrance, only picking up as their food is served and everyone eats. Thick droplets hammer down on the windows, and Rachel excuses herself from the after-dinner conversation a bit earlier than expected, claiming that she'd like to do some private bible study on her own in the wake of the meditative drumming nature would seem to provide her tonight.

She waits for fifteen minutes, the sound of Jesse's footsteps passing by her door making her breath catch as she feels her pulse speed up in anticipation.

Five minutes later, sure that no one has seen her, silent footsteps slip to his room, carefully closing the door behind her before moving to kneel beside his chair again.

But he doesn't move in his seat, staring at the coalescing droplets trailing along the glass of his window, quiet for a long moment.

"I can hear you," he whispers softly, his gaze still fixed ahead of him. "At night, in your room. After you leave. You think you're being quiet, but. I can hear it."

She wants to say something, anything, her voice trapped in her throat as she slowly opens her mouth to speak.

"Show me," he finally looks at her, his jaw set as he waits for her to obey.

"Show you?" she whispers, her eyes going wide.

"Yes."

It comes out breathy, almost restrained, and when he moves his chair back, she can see that his pants are tented, a soft gasp leaving her.

"Get on the bed, Rachel."

She's imagined this before, imagined that she's in his bed, with him watching, and she bites her lip as she quickly scurries on to sit, Jesse waiting for her to lie back.

But she doesn't, and he moves to kneel on the edge of it, watching her like she might disappear any second if he looks on her for too long, touches her.

"... on all fours. L-like the bitch in the barn."

"O-oh."

Her jaw drops for a moment as she fights to contain her arousal at his mention of it, at the mental image of Jesse taking her like that, but he just nods again, swallowing hard as he watches her move, leaning on her forearms.

"Spread your legs, Rachel."

She hesitates only for a moment, her eyes closing as she remembers every single time she touched herself thinking about him, imagining what it might be like.

But this is better, and she shifts her knees apart, moving her hand to her back to ease the material of her gown slowly up at his instruction, up, up, until her breasts are hanging free for him to see.

He doesn't bother loosening the drawstring, just gently tugging down her underwear to drop to around her knees, and Rachel holds her breath as she waits for what's next, Jesse occasionally glancing to the door just to make sure before slowly bringing his hands down on her ass to gently stroke the soft flesh, letting his thumb dig in here and there as he watches.

She can hear him, feel him panting, and Rachel lets out a soft whimper as he presses both sides together, pulling them apart.

"S-spread them further."

She does as he asks, Jesse pulling her open as though intent on examining every last part of her, Rachel feeling his breath hot on her core as she shudders.

"You didn't used to sound like that in your room," he whispers softly, Rachel squeezing her eyes shut as she shakes her head. "Why?"

"I-- I don't know!"

"It's me, isn't it? Watching me?" He takes in a deep, labored breath, closing his eyes as she whimpers, finally drawing his hand back to lightly spank her to the sound of a gasp. "You-- you b-bad girl."

Her eyes fly open, Rachel looking over her shoulder at him with big eyes. This wasn't part of her fantasy, the things she'd been thinking about for months now.

"Wh-what?"

"You-- you're a bad girl, Rachel." He swallows hard, taking in a deep breath. "A-and bad girls deserve to be punished... b-by their lord and husband."

It takes a moment, but Rachel finally catches on, holding her breath as she bows her head slightly. "A-are you my husband?"

"Yes," he breathes, letting his hand come down on her ass again with a sharp grunt, Rachel squealing softly. "D-doing all that w-without me--"

" _Oh--_ "

His hand comes down again to another squeal from her, and again until he's panting sharply, his cock aching, straining against the seam of his pants.

"Rachel--"

It takes him every single modicum of restraint to pull back from her, to not keep staring at her entrance, the way she's dripping onto his sheets, clear fluid leaking down the inside of her thigh fast enough to tempt him to lick it off, taste her.

But he controls himself.

"G-get on your back."

The strain in his voice feels like a reward to her, and Rachel moves to acquiesce to his request even as he tears off her underwear to chuck to the ground, quickly helping her spread her legs further apart. He can't stop staring, seemingly only torn from his trance at the sight of her breasts peeking out from underneath the bunched material of her gown.

"G-god," he groans, his hands slowly massaging her skin at her knees, her thighs, fighting himself to keep from going up further just yet.

 _Not yet_.

"Show me," he repeats again, Rachel's eyes widening once more until he shakes his head. "Do as I say."

He smiles at the sight of her trembling hands, slowly drawing two fingers down over her clit with a gasp, Jesse letting out a groaned exhale as he stares, watching the motion of her chest's rising and falling shift slightly-- faster; less deep, more desperate.

"Do you think about me?" he whispers, Rachel quickly nodding as she looks up at him, her fingers speeding up. "My hands? My--" He swallows hard. "My penis?"

She nods again, leaving him just to groan as she brings a hand up to her breast to tweak at her nipple, another gasp escaping her.

"Oh god... tell me what you think about, Rachel."

There's a long pause, as though Rachel can't decide what to say, how much to tell him, working up the courage to divulge the innermost secret of her sin.

Finally--

"I-- I imagine my hands as yours."

His cock twitches as he groans, watching her fingers speed up with the slightest arch of her back, moving against her hand with another whimper.

" _Oh_ \--"

"Do you place a finger inside of you? Sh-show me."

Her nods are more frantic now, her courage seemingly fueled by the passion of the moment between them, and he swallows hard as she lets her hand cease attending to her breast, instead moving to press a finger, two inside of her, fucking herself with them as Jesse's eyes widen.

"G-god--"

" _Jesse_!"

He tears her hand out of her without hesitation, plunging two of his own fingers inside of her as he frantically starts pumping them in and out. She was coming before, her cunt still clenching and fluttering around his fingers, but she comes again almost instantly with the pounding from his hand, her hips arching up in desperation as she moans, Jesse infinitely grateful for the rain's harsh patter upon the windows to drown out her cries of pleasure.

"R-Rachel--"

"Ahh-- _ahhh_!"

Her face looks so beautiful, so perfect just like this, contorted in ecstasy in the throes of her orgasm, Jesse finally pulling his hand free from inside of her to scramble to tear down his pants, his shirt quickly following. His pubic hair nearly gets stuck in one of the buttons, his pants impossibly hard to take off around his aching erection, but he needs it, craves her, not even bothering to explain as he kisses her and thrusts inside of her.

It's instinct, just like the stallion coupling with the mare knows exactly what to do, how to move.

Rachel cries out in pain, but he can't stop, not now, letting her cling to him as he thrusts inside of her just a few times before coming himself with a cry, his head falling back with a gasp as his little sister clings to him.

"J-Jesse..."

"Rachel, you know I'd marry you if I could."

She nods into his shoulder, Jesse stopping to kiss her cheek, her temple, his hand moving down to grope at her breast.

"But I don't want to stop," she whispers, shaking her head.

"So we won't... we'll get you good and married soon and they'll never-- they'll never know your children are my own." He shudders out a soft laugh. "Like the dogs in the barn, you're my bitch now, little sister. You belong to me."


End file.
